(no subject)
Maureen stumbles into the bar at some godforsaken hour of the morning, after being thrown out by Joanne for the third time. She is holding a small valise and she clearly needs a drink.
She looks around, suddenly noticing her surroundings. "What the fuck...?" she mutters. But then she notices the bar in front of her and decides it doesn't matter. Stridently, she pulls up a chair. "What kind of beer do you serve, Pookie?"
She looks around, suddenly noticing her surroundings. "What the fuck...?" she mutters. But then she notices the bar in front of her and decides it doesn't matter. Stridently, she pulls up a chair. "What kind of beer do you serve, Pookie?"